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The Portrait of a Lady

✒ Author
📖 Pages1199
⏰ Reading time 39 hours
💡 Originally published1880
🌏 Original language English
📌 Type Novels

Table of contents

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I1
II21
III32
IV49
V64
VI89
VII108
VIII127
IX141
X154
XI178
XII192
XIII213
XIV243
XV263
XVI292
XVII314
XVIII328
XIX358
XX401
XXI429
XXII443
XXIII477
XXIV497
XXV527
XXVI539
XXVII567
XXVIII*589
XXIX602
XXX621
XXXI632
XXXII648
XXXIII662
XXXIV677
XXXV696
XXXVI714
XXXVII733
XXXVIII755
XXXIX777
XL803
XLI831
XLII848
XLIII878
XLIV901
XLV931
XLVI953
XLVII975
XLVIII1005
XLIX1037
L1063
LI1079
LII1111
LIII1133
LIV1151
LV1171

Read the book

I

UNDER certain circumstances there are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea.
There are circumstances in which, whether you partake of the tea or not — some people of course never do, — the situation is in itself delightful.
Those that I have in mind in beginning to unfold this simple history offered an admirable setting to an innocent pastime.
The implements of the little feast had been disposed upon the lawn of an old English country-house, in what I should call the perfect middle of a splendid summer afternoon.
Part of the afternoon had waned, but much of it was left, and what was left was of the finest and rarest quality.
Real dusk would not arrive for many hours; but the flood of summer light had begun to ebb, the air had grown mellow, the shadows were long upon the smooth, dense turf.
They lengthened slowly, however, and the scene expressed that sense of leisure still to come which is perhaps the chief source of one’s enjoyment of such a scene at such an hour.
From five o’clock to eight is on certain occasions a little eternity; but on such an occasion as this the interval could be only an eternity of pleasure.
The persons concerned in it were taking their pleasure quietly, and they were not of the sex which is supposed to furnish the regular votaries of the ceremony I have mentioned.
The shadows on the perfect lawn were straight and angular; they were the shadows of an old man sitting in a deep wicker-chair near the low table on which the tea had been served, and of two younger men strolling to and fro, in desultory talk, in front of him.
The old man had his cup in his hand; it was an unusually large cup, of a different pattern from the rest of the set and painted in brilliant colours.
He disposed of its contents with much circumspection, holding it for a long time close to his chin, with his face turned to the house.
His companions had either finished their tea or were indifferent to their privilege; they smoked cigarettes as they continued to stroll.
One of them, from time to time, as he passed, looked with a certain attention at the elder man, who, unconscious of observation, rested his eyes upon the rich red front of his dwelling.
The house that rose beyond the lawn was a structure to repay such consideration and was the most characteristic object in the peculiarly English picture I have attempted to sketch.
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